Look at Me
by Mishaela
Summary: Warnings: Yaoi, Shounen-ai, Poetry, Language. Yohji x Aya. When Aya finds out that Yohji is bisexual, he decides not to fight his hidden feelings anymore. Can he make the older assassin see past the utter bastard he's come to know? **Part ELEVEN**
1. Discovery

Look at Me - Part 1.

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Disclaimer: No copyrights were harmed in the making of this fic... 

Pairing: Yohji x Aya/Ran  
Warnings: Yaoi, Shounen-ai, Language, Poetry, Donnie Danes cameo. 

* * *

Three in the morning was not the time of day that Aya wanted to be woken because of someone honking a horn in the back alley behind the flower shop. Growling in the back of his throat, he tossed back his covers and jerked himself out of bed. It was bad enough he wasn't sleeping well… but to have this happen just as he was finally settling into a doze? 

Angrily, he yanked on a robe and opened his door. Whoever had honked that horn was going to get a good portion of Fujimiya ire. Soft, but rapid steps on the stairs carried him down and he went out the back door of the shop without even closing it behind him. His violet eyes searched around until he saw Yohji's car in the alley. He could see what appeared to be struggling in the front seat and wondered if the horn might have had a different meaning. 

What if it had been the only way for his blond team mate to cry for help? Aya rushed to the car and yanked the driver side door open. "Yohji!" 

The blond looked up, his lips swollen from passionate kisses, his eyes glazed with lust. The button-up shirt Yohji was wearing had been opened to the waist and, even now, was threatening to fall off one shoulder. Pinned under the tall man was another beautiful man with long blue hair that spilled over the passenger seat. Both the assassin and the unknown looked in the direction of the interruption. 

The emerald orbs focused on Aya, widening a little. "Hey… Something wrong?" 

Aya couldn't move. Yohji was parked, in the back alley, with another guy in his car… and they were… kissing… and getting ready to do more by the looks of things. The redhead closed his eyes and shook his head, trying to dispel the image before him. This wasn't right. Yohji didn't bring young men home. There was no way he could be seeing what was right in front of him. 

When he opened his eyes, the picture had remained the same. Now, though, Yohji's companion was sitting up, looking at him with passion dark blue eyes. "Do you mind," the young man asked breathlessly, "we were kind of busy." 

Regaining control of his body, Aya slammed the door shut and turned on his heel. His knees were shaking, threatening to give out as the new knowledge of one of his partners hit him full force. Going back inside, he closed the door behind him and leaned against it. 

Yohji… was out in the alley… with another guy… and they were going to… 'Oh, God…' Aya's slender hands covered his face, rubbing it to try and get his thoughts back in order. Like everyone else, he assumed that the blond assassin was only interested in women. Even the redhead had been fooled and he was one to notice such things as someone's sexual preferences. 

The redhead closed his eyes, burying the new feelings that were working their way past his emotional armor. He'd been watching the other assassin for a long time now, burying the fact that he was attracted to the older man. It had been easier to do when he thought that Yohji was straight; when he thought he didn't have a snowball's prayer in hell. 

This… this new knowledge just complicated matters. How could he even begin to keep the negative emotions in check now that he knew that his team mate wasn't just into girls? Aya bit his lower lip. He suddenly found that he was jealous… of the young blue haired man in the car with Yohji. *He* wanted to be the one under the lithe frame. *He* wanted to be the one sharing those intense kisses. *He* wanted to be on the receiving end of those hands ghosting over his skin. 

Aya heard a soft cry from outside the door and closed his eyes tight. His imagination was giving him all kinds of images of what the two men were doing now. Was Yohji the type to enjoy sex face to face, or did he prefer to be bent over his lover's back, driving himself into the other body like an animal? 

'Why am I even thinking about this,' Aya asked himself silently as another, slightly louder cry erupted from outside. He pushed away from the door and moved much more slowly up the stairs than when he'd come down earlier. His heart sank. 'It's not like I even have a chance now… All I've ever done is shown him how much of an utter bastard I can be. Besides… He only sees me as "Aya" and, if I were going to really mean something to him, I'd rather he call me by my real name.' 

His hand gripped the rail as his mind decided to play with that thought. Over and over, he heard Yohji's smoky, sensual voice murmuring his birth name. 'Ran… Ran… Ran…' The sound, despite the fact that it wasn't real, was enough to make his manhood twitch. 

'Even with all this… I wonder if it's possible to get him to look at me… for even a second… so I can tell him how I feel?' Aya wondered as his door closed behind him. 'I can't keep it bottled up anymore… I have to let it out… even if he tells me to go to hell…' 

Aya sat awake, thinking through his options, trying to come up with an acceptable solution to his problem. He was aware of the sound of Yohji's boots on the stair outside his room. He listened for them, his breath hitching when they paused just beyond his door. Would the beautiful blond confront him about tonight? About what he'd seen? 

After either heartbeats or hours, Aya wasn't sure which, the sounds moved away from his door and he breathed out a sigh of relief. He was safe for the moment. Quietly as he could, the redhead got out of his bed and walked over to his desk, opening a drawer near the bottom that held his paper and pens. He thought about things as he held the writing utensil poised over the paper. 

Yohji would recognize his kanji in a heartbeat. He wanted to get his feelings aired in such a way that they wouldn't be colored by his predisposed opinions of the redhead. Aya considered. Ideas were contemplated and then tossed aside. He finally settled on one. 

Both Aya and Yohji were fluent in English. While it wasn't the most poetic of languages, it would be enough for what he had planned. Since the blond had never seen his handwriting in English, Aya figured he was pretty safe from discovery. He put the point of the pen to the paper and started on his rough draft. He wouldn't go at this halfway… this was all or nothing now. 

* * *

Yohji lay back in his bed, feeling very good about himself after the night's accomplishments. The blue haired guy… his name was Donnie? He'd been fun. A very accomplished lover and a very intense one to boot. That was something he didn't find too often. The blond assassin liked it when his choices for the night knew what they were doing. There were also fewer expectations and fewer headaches that way. 

Virgins tended to be of the mindset that one night meant there would be some kind of lasting thing and Yohji Kudou was just not that kind of guy. It took someone special to make him stand up and take notice. Tonight's diversion was one of those. He had to admit… that list was incredibly short. 

One of the other people on said list was probably not too happy with him right now, in fact. He glanced at the door, wondering if Aya was going to come barreling through it, screaming at him for waking him up in the middle of the night. He knew that the redhead didn't sleep enough as it was, but to wake him as he'd obviously done? 

It wasn't really his fault that his hip had hit the horn accidentally. That blue haired guy really knew what he was doing with his hands. How could Yohji keep his body still when those long fingers were doing such delightfully evil things to his cock? 

It was a real pity that the more interesting one wasn't interested in things like sex and relationships. Yohji found himself wondering what kind of lover Aya would be. Soft and quiet or loud and responsive and screaming? The world at large might think the first one, but the blond was certain that the second grouping was probably more the truth. Redheads were passionate creatures. 

He rolled over and snagged his cigarettes off the nightstand. Lighting one, he looked out at the pre-dawn glow on the horizon. He considered watching the sunrise, like he and Asuka used to do some nights, then discarded the idea. That would be counter-productive. All this time trying to get over her would be wasted if he gave in just yet. 

So, he lay against the pillows, smoking and thinking. He was pretty sure that he'd shocked the living shit out of the redhead. None of the others had known about his switch-hitting lifestyle. Yohji had always been very careful to never bring guys into the apartments. Girls were fine, but… never bring in the guys. No need to expose himself and the others to that kind of awkwardness. 

He hoped that Aya had the good sense to keep his mouth shut on the topic. It wasn't anyone else's business if he screwed another man in the front of his car… or the back for that matter. They were his team mates, not his parents or siblings. They had no need to know what he did outside of the flower shop and while not on any missions. 

But, his mind went back to the business of Aya knowing. Did the idea disgust the younger man? Yohji really didn't know what to think. He'd never really seen Aya take any interest in someone else. The boy was too tightly stitched together for that. If, and that was a very big if, he had any interests in the romance department, he was very good at not clueing anyone in on it. The blond had no real way of knowing the answer to his question. Aya was a mystery… Hell, for all Yohji knew, the other assassin was asexual. 

That thought made him chuckle. Aya being asexual was probably so untrue. He just hadn't found the right person for him yet. Yohji took a drag from his smoke. Once, an eternity ago it seemed, the blond had found a right person. But she'd been taken from him too soon. He'd never even really had the chance to tell her how he felt. Everyday after that, the former private investigator had blamed God and himself for her demise. If only Yohji had not told her to go on without him… Maybe, just maybe, they might have had a chance. Those men might have passed by without seeing either of them. 

Yohji stubbed out the cigarette in the nearby ashtray and rolled over, pulling the sheets over his shoulder. He would try and think the real problems through later, when he wasn't so tired and sated and inebriated. 

* * *

Mishaela: Decided on a slightly different approach to the YohjixAya romance. This is the only appearance of my original bishounen in this fic, by the way. I can't give him too much lead on his leash or he'll be all over the pretty boys! 

Hope you guys all like what I've got so far. Feed Mish? 


	2. Tentative Beginnings

Look at Me - Part 2.

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Disclaimer: No copyrights were harmed in the making of this fic... 

Pairing: Yohji x Aya/Ran  
Warnings: Yaoi, Shounen-ai, Language, Poetry 

* * *

Managing a little sleep, Aya rose early and rubbed his bleary eyes. He flicked his violet gaze to his desk, where the project of last night sat. Rising from the bed in his pajama pants, he walked over to the desk and looked down at it. 

_Would you ever look at me?  
Does anyone have a chance?  
I want to see inside your soul…  
And bare mine to you as well.  
Time and time again it seems  
I've thought this question through.  
Would you ever look at me?  
And let me live through you…_

It wasn't his best work, but it would have to do. The crimson haired assassin was tired of letting things pass by and only reacting to them. Aya wanted to take his own steps forward when it came to the kinder things in life. Up to now, everything in his young life had been about revenge and his sister. It was time for him to take something for himself… even if it didn't work out. 

At least then, Ran Fujimiya would have the satisfaction that he'd actually *tried*. 

He knew that Yohji wouldn't be awake yet… In fact, it was early enough that he could slip out and only Ken might know. He wouldn't ever know about what Aya was going to do, though. He'd never breath a word of it to anyone… Not until the time came that he could speak with Yohji about his feelings. 

If that time came. 

He showered and dressed quickly, going into the main room to find Ken sitting on the couch having a quick breakfast before he was off to coach the neighborhood kids in their soccer game. Aya gave the briefest of nods before he grabbed some toasted bread for himself and backed out of the door, looking as though he was late to run some errands. Down the stairs he went, his boots making sharp sounds on the wood, and out the back door. 

He moved through the garage, getting to Yohji's car easily and slipping the poem under the windshield wiper. Aya knew the blond well enough to know that he would see the paper from the doorway. The man was just that attached to the Jag. 

Aya continued on, to his own car, and got in quickly. As he started his vehicle, he saw Ken coming out the door and move to his motorcycle. No one would ever attribute the note to him, so he really didn't have to worry about suspicion yet. The only one who might find out was Omi and Aya didn't think he'd tell anyone. The youngest assassin was good at keeping his own council and not a gossip-monger like Yohji was. 

Piece of toast hanging out of his mouth, Aya shifted gears and backed out of his parking stall. He had a date with another slumbering person, non-blond, and he didn't want to be late. His sister might be in a coma, but that wouldn't be a good enough excuse in his eyes. 

* * *

Waking earlier than he wanted, Yohji rose from bed and padded to the shower. Usually, when he woke up, he didn't have to compete for the hot water. Little did anyone know, that was one of the reasons why he slept so late. 

After he got cleaned up, Yohji went to the kitchen and started working on his own breakfast. Another reason he slept late… so no one would know he could actually cook for himself. The blond assassin had discovered, years ago, that typical Japanese breakfasts never stayed with him for long. A man of his metabolism needed food that stuck to the ribs. He'd taken a cue from his American mother there, and learned the finer points of making an extremely unhealthy North American breakfast. 

In practically no time at all, he was at the table eating a large plate of biscuits smothered in heavy sausage gravy. The few times he'd been to the States himself, to visit his mother, he'd picked up quite a few different recipes. She was one of the finest cooks out there. 

Yohji was careful to make damn sure he left no evidence of his culinary skills and then grabbed his keys. Outside the door to the garage, he spotted the piece of lined notebook paper before he'd even taken a step. He rushed to the car, looking for any unwarranted damage, and snatched it quickly. 

His emerald gaze scanned the words, translating them easily, and he lifted an eyebrow. 'Love poetry? I haven't gotten that in years…' Yohji wondered if the blue haired boy had left it. His 'date' last night had been American. But… he remembered the way the young man spoke and nothing in this seemed to fit that. 

Which led him to believe that he was dealing with someone closer to home. Short list of suspects, too. The blond got into his Jag and lit a cigarette before he started the car, his mind whirling. There were a couple of girls from the clubs he frequented capable of writing something like this, but not too many guys. 

He took a drag from his cigarette and studied the handwriting itself. Very meticulous and tidy - but not feminine. It had written by another man. 

Yohji was sure of himself but not the conceited type. He knew that he hadn't left *that* lasting of an impression on his male dates. Sometimes, guys were harder to discourage than girls. He didn't want them following him around like a bunch of lost puppies. 

He looked again at the writing. It was too elegant for anyone he knew… except one. His eyes narrowed. It couldn't be possible, could it? What the hell would cause *Aya* to write something like this and leave it on Yohji's windshield? He never really knew where he stood with the hot-tempered redhead anyway… but, this? 

Why? 

The answer hit him like a bolt out of the blue. Last night… For the first time, his encounters with other men had been discovered… by none other than Aya himself. If he'd been harboring a secret crush on Yohji, he would have been keeping his feelings in check because of all the signs saying that Yohji Kudou was a ladies' man. But, with the truth out in the open, there was a possibility that Yohji might not be as adverse to another man as anyone had thought. 

Yohji leaned his head back, mind working in overdrive. Because of his past behavior, Aya wouldn't think that any overt moves would be acceptable. Chances were, he figured that any offering he made would be met with an instant refusal. So, he would resort to an almost courtship type of beginning. 

The blond almost laughed. Only Aya would be so formal about things like this. Why couldn't he just come right out and say, "Hey, since I know you're bisexual, do you think we could go out some time?" Yohji gave it some thought. No, an insecure Aya wouldn't be direct. He would test the waters first, see how warm they were, and then wade in carefully anyway. 

The thought flattered Yohji. To think that Aya would go so far as to test the waters instead of just outright asking was something to take note of. He probably didn't want to get burned either. After all, Yohji Kudou had one hell of a loose reputation. Absently, Seven reversed out of the stall. It was an interesting proposal to say the least. 

And Yohji wasn't the type of guy to let something interesting get out of his hands if he could help it. 

* * *

Mishaela: Hope the poetry didn't suck too bad. I was working on this just after I got in from work. It made sense at the time... 

Oh, and I'm of the firm belief that Yohji had an American mother. If anybody disagrees, fine, but this is what one would call 'Artistic License'. 


	3. Progress? Maybe...

Look at Me - Part 3.

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Disclaimer: No copyrights were harmed in the making of this fic... 

Pairing: Yohji x Aya/Ran  
Warnings: Yaoi, Shounen-ai, Language, Poetry 

* * *

_Would you ever look at me?  
And let me live through you…  
I find myself outside your world.  
With nothing left to do.  
I want to get to know you  
If you have the time.  
Would you ever look at me?  
_ I'm asking for a sign. 

Aya smiled softly to himself as he remembered the continuation of the poem he'd left earlier that day. It was simple, like the first one… enough so that the blond might not attribute it to him. He was by himself in the flower shop, putting together a few arrangements in the front. As usual, Yohji was late for his shift, but today the redhead didn't mind. Everything was quiet and peaceful, a rare thing for the shop. 

It might have had something to do with the stormy weather. Aya looked out the window, watching the rain pelt against the windows. He'd always liked storms. Something about them calmed him. Maybe it was the knowledge that even Mother Nature could get just as angry as he could that kept him at peace on a day like today. 

His breath caught for a moment as he saw Yohji come into the view from the window. He was standing just under the awning of the pane, smoking the last remnants off his cigarette, cupping his hand to keep the blowing wind from soaking it. Good God, did the man know how sexy he looked in the sleek black trenchcoat and dripping hair? 

Yohji turned suddenly, as if he felt the eyes on him, and their gazes locked. Aya held his breath, unable to look away from the verdant stare that snared him as surely as one of the assassin's wire garrotes. The blond didn't look away either. In fact, he took the last drag from his smoke and then smiled at the redhead. It was genuine, too, which surprised Aya a great deal. He didn't think he'd ever seen that kind of smile directed at him. 

Flicking the butt out into the street, Yohji turned and opened the door, shrugging his coat off instantly. Aya gave himself a shake as the gaze was no longer turned on him and put up his carefully neutral mask of indifference. He couldn't afford to give himself away just yet. He didn't dare. 

"So, what's on the agenda for today, Aya," asked the blond as he walked over to the pegs and took down his apron. Yohji tied it around his waist, looping it back around to the front. 

The younger assassin flicked his indifferent gaze at his team mate. "If you'd come in on time, you'd know." The usual banter seemed a good distraction. 

"Sorry… I overslept." 

"Yohji," Aya said, letting some light indignation into his voice, "you *always* oversleep when your shift is up." He took the trimmers and clipped a few leaves from one of the roses that were part of the wreath he was working on. He reached for the next one, took it between his slender digits, and felt the tell-tale prick of a thorn. Aya hissed softly as it broke flesh and a droplet of blood welled up on his middle finger. 

A warm hand caught his before he could pull away from the work table. The redhead looked up in time to see Yohji take a cloth from the drawer below and press it to the minor injury. "Careful Aya… roses are kind of like you. Nice to look at on the outside, but not easy to get close to." The redhead's violet gaze widened at that. Was Yohji trying to send him some kind of message? 

"It's nothing, Yohji. I can manage on my own." Aya needed to get his hand away from the older man before he did something foolish. He tugged, trying to free himself, but found the other assassin's grip too strong. 

Yohji kept his hold and wrapped the soft cloth against the wound. His eyes were on what he was doing and his voice spoke out, low and almost unheard. "Thank you, Aya." 

The redhead blinked. "For what?" 

"For not telling anyone about a couple of nights ago." Yohji looked at the pale young man, another of those odd smiles on his lips. "I tried not to make anybody uncomfortable with that part of my life, you know? I mean, yeah, I swing both ways, but… that's not really anyone else's business." Yohji sighed softly. "I'm glad it was you who found out, rather than the others, though." 

Aya was confused and his expression showed it. "Me? Why on earth would you say that?" He wondered if Yohji would be this gentle as a lover, too. The touch was soft, almost so soft that he didn't even realize it was there. 

"Because I knew that, of everyone, you wouldn't make a big scene about it." Yohji's voice rose a little more to the normal volume. "Ken would have flipped out, you know how he gets sometimes… and Omi? He would have been stammering and blushing for months." 

"Can I ask why?" 

"Why I sleep with guys, too?" Yohji asked, the corners of his eyes crinkling with amusement. He blinked once and then pulled the cloth away from the injury. Since it had stopped bleeding, he tossed the towel into a nearby bucket and moved over to the refrigerated cases of flowers. "They don't play the head games that girls do. It's a nice change, really." He looked at Aya over his shoulder, another of those little smiles playing across his lips. "I like all the expectations out in the open. Girls don't usually do that. They like to make you guess." 

He shrugged. "Guys… they're different usually. Like that one you saw me with? He was very direct. We were both in agreement about how things would turn out. It was all about sex… nothing more, nothing less." 

Aya nodded his understanding. Even during the times when the young school girls would invade the shop, they would play all kinds of games to try and get Omi and Ken's attention. It was good insight into the mind of Yohji Kudou. The next words out of the blond's mouth made him freeze. 

"There's someone who's been leaving notes on my car windshield. Little poems and stuff. It's nice. I'm not really sure who's doing it, but… I hope it doesn't stop for a while. I don't want them to lose interest." Yohji turned to his companion and tilted his head to the side, the expression on his face unreadable. "Whoever's behind it is genuine… I can tell that much. I just wish they didn't have to be so secretive, you know? Makes me wonder if they think I'll shoot them down right off." 

"Maybe you know them," Aya ventured, trying to bury the breathlessness that he felt. Inside, his heart was pounding loud enough that he really had to try and listen for what Yohji was saying. 

"Probably." Yohji said as he went back to looking inside the cases. "It's not someone from the clubs I go to, though. I haven't met anyone who's that creative. I'd like to meet up with them…" The blond ran his hand over the glass slowly, almost reverently, Aya noticed. "I think I'm ready to take a shot at being with someone again." 

* * *

From the corner of his eye, Yohji watched the reaction to his last comment. The brief glimpse of hope that had passed across Aya's face couldn't be fake. It gave him confirmation about his deduction. He hid his smile and went about to doing some actual work. The time passed away very quickly and, before the blond knew it, the shop was due to close. 

Once closing clean up was done, he took off for the upstairs and jumped in the shower as quickly as possible. He wanted to be free of the calliope scent of the flowers he'd been working with for most of the day. Yohji scrubbed himself down efficiently, letting his mind wander about the current predicament. 

A) Aya wanted to try and make something work between them.  
B) Yohji, after a bit of thinking, didn't mind the idea.  
C) Aya was afraid to actually say something about it just yet.  
D) Yohji found himself enjoying this new side to the redhead. 

Four factors in the equation that might actually mean something. Yohji smiled to himself, wondering what a date with Aya might be like. He wished that the other young man were the kind to enjoy dancing. That was something that would really make the blond happy. He let images of the graceful swordsman on the dance floor run through and his smile got wider. 

Oh, yeah… Aya and dancing were definitely something that he would like to see put together. 

He bounded out of the bathroom, towel around his hips, passing Omi with a muttered, "Hey." The teen tried to say something to him, but Yohji waved him off. "Sorry, kid, got stuff to do." 

Diving into his closet, he chose the most seductive (read: revealing) of his clubbing clothes. Tight fitting sleeveless mesh shirt, matching mesh gloves that went up to about mid-bicep, and the tightest-looking leather pants he owned. Yohji was going to have fun tonight. 

He stopped as he reached for his hair-dryer. It wouldn't be fair to Aya if he brought someone, of either gender, back to the shop. He didn't want to hurt the redhead and possibly make him back off of his attempts at catching Yohji's interest. He looked into the mirror, searching his own gaze, and nodded to himself. Okay, so tonight Yohji Kudou would be doing the unthinkable… He'd be coming home, alone, by choice rather than design. 

What bothered the blond was that he found he didn't mind it so much. 

Hair dry and brushed and gleaming, Yohji dressed and then surveyed the look in the mirror. Man… he loved the clothes he was wearing. Attention-grabbing clothing that practically screamed, "I'm here for a good fuck!" 

Yohji smiled secretly to himself. Tonight, that message wasn't going to be passed to anybody at his usual watering holes. This time, his message was aimed for the redhead that just so happened to be in the same building. The poem that had been left had asked for a sign. What better sign could the blond give than going out, dressed to kill, and coming home alone and early? 

* * *

Mishaela: Hope you guys are still with me on this one. I'm enjoying how this one's going as much as I enjoyed how 'As You See Me' went. *grins* 

More to come. What will Aya do to REALLY get Yohji's attention? You'll have to come back to see. 


	4. Effort Not Wasted...

Look at Me - Part 4.

* * *

Disclaimer: Same as in previous parts... 

Pairing: Yohji x Aya/Ran  
Warnings: Yaoi, Shounen-ai, Language, Poetry 

* * *

Violet eyes lifted as Yohji walked through the living room. Aya had to stifle a gasp at the way the older assassin looked. He never thought the man had ever looked so wanton. The book the redhead held suddenly had no appeal as the blond walked over to the door that led to the stairs down. Yohji looked over his shoulder at Aya and gave a wink. 

"About what I said earlier? That stays between us, right?" 

Aya nodded quietly, too awestruck by the sight in front of him. God… Why did Yohji have to do this to him? The plans he'd made were now even more important. 

Tonight, Aya was going to one of the clubs that Yohji *didn't* go to and learn what he could about dancing. He was going to learn about one of the things that the blond assassin loved so that he had an advantage when he finally came out about how he felt. That would be a point in his favor, he was sure, if Yohji found out that he went out of his way to try to do something that his team mate obviously enjoyed immensely… right? 

He waited until the blond had been gone for about a half hour and then closed his book. Rising from the chair, he went to his own room and started sifting through his wardrobe. Nothing that would really be appropriate for clubs like Yohji went to… except, maybe, one combination. The sleeveless black shirt and pants that he wore under his working clothes. 

It had been a spur of the moment decision so they would have to do. 

He showered and dressed, not really knowing what else to do. Then, the redhead went out to his car and made his way to the club. His eyes sifted through the parking lot, making absolutely certain that Seven wasn't there. Aya didn't want a surprise like that. 

He managed to get through the line at the club doors without killing anyone, though there were a few that were surely begging for it. The interior of the club itself was packed, with gyrating bodies out on the floor. Some of those bodies moved in ways that made the redhead blush. Aya guessed that Yohji was probably one to dance like they were. 

The pale skinned assassin spent two hours, just watching, studying the way everyone moved. Aya was also sipping down a couple of drinks as this happened. He knew that he would need them to actually be able to go through with this. 

Once he felt suitably relaxed, he moved out onto the floor himself and started trying on his own. An attractive figure such as he had no trouble finding partners to dance with, and then Aya found that he really could get into it. Maybe Yohji had the right idea? Gentle hands guided him when he faltered, while rough hands were knocked away. Aya was there to learn, not get fondled and groped. 

When he'd decided that he'd learned enough, the redhead hit the door and headed for home. Too wired to get to sleep right away, Aya showered and went into the living room so that he could curl up with a book on the couch. Not fifteen minutes later, he heard Yohji's boots on the stairs. 

That couldn't be… it wasn't even midnight yet. 

The blond assassin came in, looking as sober as could be, and walked right by the couch. Aya looked up, his eyes taking in the sight of his team mate, and wished he was brave enough to say something about how good he still looked. He did, however, find the courage to say something about the time. 

"Who are you and what have you done with Yohji?" 

The man stopped and turned a bemused smile on the redhead. "I'm an assassin who's had plastic surgery to look exactly like him. I was supposed to infiltrate Weiss and gain their trust so that I could kill the rest later." Yohji chuckled and hooked his thumb over his shoulder. "We've got the blond back at our headquarters and we're torturing him for information." 

Okay… so why was he in such a good mood if he didn't find a partner for the night? Aya looked at him, confused. "You're alone?" 

"Yeah… Something wrong with that, Aya?" Yohji lay his jacket over the back of the couch and leaned down towards him. Those emerald pools remained riveted to the redhead, daring him to say something about it. 

Carefully schooling his neutral face at the shock, Aya gazed intently at the other man. "I'm just surprised. You don't often come home alone." He had to admit, the thought did make him feel a little more secure in his attempts to catching the blond's attention. 

Yohji smiled cryptically and grabbed his jacket. "I'll see you in the morning, Aya." With that, he headed for his room, leaving the redhead staring after him, confused. 

* * *

Yohji woke early, again, and rolled over in his bed. His eyes peered through half-lids at the clock. 

9:37 

"Oh, God… No, not this early… _never_ this early…" 

His body wouldn't cooperate, though, and he found himself out of bed by strike of the hour. He shook his head, setting his tousled hair to rights, before running a quick brush through it. Yohji's green gaze studied his hair in the mirror. 

The golden locks were wavier than usual today. He cast his eyes to the window quickly, taking note of the dark clouds outside. "Hn… Looks like the storm's still hanging around. Gonna be nasty, too." 

Slipping into a pair of faded jeans, the playboy left his room and went down stairs. He could hear Omi's pleading voice as he got closer to the kitchen and winced. His stomach would have to wait. 

"Come on, Ken… I have to take a make-up test for the one I missed. Please?" 

The voice of the athlete cut through the youth's. "I'm sorry, Omi, but I can't. I promised the kids I'd be there for their game. I told everyone about this two weeks ago… That's why I requested this morning off." There was a bit of an exasperated sigh. "Why don't you ask Yohji?" 

That was the point that Yohji entered the kitchen. "Ask Yohji what?" 

Omi was on him in an instant. "I have to make up a test today and the teacher wants me to come in early. That means I can't work my shift this morning and I have to find someone to take my place and Ken can't do it but Aya will be so mad if he's stuck all alone-" 

With a wave of the blond's hand, Omi was quieted. "I'll do it." 

Ken blinked. "You… you will? Yohji, it's the morning shift." 

"I heard that, Ken. What, do you think I'm both stupid *and* deaf?" He peered over the youngest assassin's shoulder at the breakfast he was making. "Hey, Omi… that looks pretty good… can I have some?" 

A relieved Omi just handed the entire pan to Yohji and grabbed his backpack. "Thanks, Yohji… I'll make it up to you! I promise." And, with that, the blond teen was out the door. 

Shrugging, the older man started in on his breakfast. He was aware of Ken's eyes on him as he sat down. "That was a cool thing you did, Yohji." 

Yohji looked up, mouth full, his eyes questioning. When he finally swallowed, he gave Ken a pointed stare. "Hey, I'd feel bad if he failed his class. He's a smart kid… besides, school is something normal and how many normal things do we have in our lives right now?" The blond prepared to take another bite. "I want him to have normal things… outside of Weiss…" 

The younger man watched his team mate finish off the pan of food and then wash it out carefully. He waited until Yohji was ready to go upstairs and dress for work. "Hey, Yohji?" 

"Yeah?" 

"What is… you know… normal for you?" Ken's question caught the blond off-guard. 

It took a moment for Yohji to answer. He looked at his friend over his shoulder and smiled. "Coffee, man… coffee." 

Ken blinked again. "That's it?" He watched the lithe assassin start out again. 

"Yup. Catch you later, Ken." 

* * *

Mishaela: Aya... dancing?!? At a... club?!? I think there's a part of hell that froze over around here somewhere... 

Oh, well, guess the world needed a bit of a shock. Anyone care to feed the hungry Mish? 


	5. The Gambit

Look at Me - Part 5.

* * *

Disclaimer: Same as in previous parts... 

Pairing: Yohji x Aya/Ran  
Warnings: Yaoi, Shounen-ai, Language, Poetry 

* * *

Much as Aya hated to admit it, when it came to clubbing clothes, he knew nothing. No clue where to get them. No clue as to what he *should* wear. No clue as to what accessories he should get. 

He racked his brain all day, thinking of something - anything - that might help his cause. Then, the redhead remembered something Yohji had said about a shop not too far away. 

Coming to his decision, Aya took the quick walk down the street and around the corner. It was a little boutique that specialized in the styles of clothing that Yohji liked so much. He almost turned around and went back to the flower shop until the young shopkeeper came outside to smoke a cigarette. 

She smiled at him, very prettily. "Window shopping or too scared to go in?" Her lips were curved upwards around the cigarette as she waited for the answer. 

Aya nodded to her. "I need clothes to wear to a dance club." Maybe the girl knew where to get the types of clothes he'd be willing to wear. 

"We have a lot of styles to choose from, sir," she said, taking a drag from her smoke. "I'm taking a guess that you don't want something too revealing?" 

"You're right." 

The young woman flicked her cigarette out into the street. "Come inside. There's more to the place than what you can see through the window." She held the door open for him, smiling as she followed him in. 

Looking around, the swordsman saw more of the style of clothes he was looking for. Silks, leathers, laces… anything he could ever want to wear to the kind of environment Yohji loved to be lost in. 

Clothing was pulled from racks and shelves. The young woman was obviously sure of her potential customer's size as she held each article of adornment to his body. "This purple silk is perfect for your complexion and it'll really bring out your eyes." She held a pair of leather pants up to the small of his back. "I'm pretty sure these'll fit too… form-fitting, but not too tight to move in." 

Aya tried them on and found her assessment of his size to be exact. He changed back to his normal clothes and set them down on the counter. "I'll take all of it." 

She smiled at him, leaning over so her chin rested on the backs of her hands. "You're going to try to impress someone, aren't you?" When the question brought a surprised look, the young woman giggled. "I knew it. If you want, the shop doesn't close until eight. Come by here before you go and I'll make sure that you look perfect." 

The offer made the redhead blink. "You'd help me?" At her nod, his violet eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Why?" 

"Call me a hopeless romantic." She tilted her head to the side. "So… will you be here?" 

He nodded back, bringing an excited giggle from the young clerk, and then left the boutique. 

* * *

Yohji never felt that he truly came alive until the sun went down. That was one of the reasons why he loved to go to the clubs. There, he could find like minded people who shared in his passions and needs. Tonight, it was like last night. He wasn't actually looking for a partner, he just wanted to dance and forget what he was all the rest of the time. 

He got the usual offers. One girl wanted him to drag her off to the bathrooms, another wanted him to have at her in the backseat of her car, while a nice looking young man wanted to give him a surprise at one of the tables. The blond shook his head each and every time. Aya had been surprised to see him by himself last night and he liked that. 

He wanted to shock the redhead again. 

So for now, Yohji threw himself into the music. It caressed him, carried him, melded with him and made him perfect. There was only one other thing that did that, but he was going to deny it to himself just to see if Aya would really go through with what he was trying. He closed his eyes, swaying in rhythm to the bodies around him. Feeling the welcome heat right through to his chilled soul. 

New warmth met his back and Yohji turned around to enjoy it. His hands reached out, coming up against slim shoulders and then slowly flowing down each of the new partners' arms. The blond liked the feel of that smooth skin and opened his eyes to take a look at the other dancer. 

Only to have his jaw drop at what he saw before him. 

Aya was moving with him, dressed modest clubbing clothes that were tight enough to be sexy but not revealing. Around his eyes there was a dusting of loose glitter that only highlighted the violet irises and pale features. The redhead looked at him from under those unruly crimson bangs, uncertainty in the expression that was normally so cool… Yohji leaned in close enough so that he could speak into his team mate's ear and be heard clearly. 

"Who are you and what the fuck did you do with Aya?" 

The redhead moved against him deliberately, a slight smile touching his glossed lips. He leaned up so that he could answer in the same way. "Tonight, I'm not Aya… Tonight, I'm Ran." 

Yohji pulled back and took another look at him. Ran. Ran Fujimiya. So that was the name that he'd kept secret from the rest of them. He liked how it sounded. He also liked the fact that Aya… no, Ran, he reminded himself… trusted him enough to tell him. The taller assassin leaned forward and let their bodies brush against each other. 

"Well, then, Ran… Has anyone told you how beautiful you are?" Yohji smiled and tilted the redhead's chin up, leaning down as if to kiss him. It was a teasing move that he used often. Make his dance partner think he was going to follow through, only to divert at the last second so that anticipation could be heightened. 

He only used it on the ones he intended to take home with him. 

The blond felt, rather than heard, the disappointed growl. Yohji chuckled and leaned in again. "Patience, Ran… we have all night." His hands moved over the lean upper body of the swordsman, feeling the muscles bunch and relax as they gyrated together. 

He couldn't believe that this was happening. That he was dancing with untouchable Aya in the middle of his favorite club's dance floor. It was still more like a dream than reality. Then the redhead did something that brought it all into complete clarity in an instant. 

They had been dancing barely inches apart when one slim but strong hand went around the back of Yohji's neck and pulled him down for a hot kiss. The blond assassin went into it willingly, letting his body come up against the slender one in front of him, pressing his rising need against the younger man. 

* * *

Mishaela: Well, the opening moves have been made. Anybody wanna wager a guess as to how the night's going to end? 

If you know me... Then don't automatically think that the lemon's coming up so soon. I like sweet torture, after all. 

Oh, and I know that each part is short, but I'm trying to keep this in an Aya/Yohji side format. That's how I'm writing this one so that's how it's going to be. I'm sorry about the brief chapters, but if I update every couple of days, that makes up for it... right? 


	6. Stay... Please?

Look at Me - Part 6.

* * *

Disclaimer: Same as in previous parts... 

Pairing: Yohji x Aya/Ran  
Warnings: Yaoi, Shounen-ai, Language, Poetry 

* * *

Aya didn't know what had possessed him to kiss the blond, he just did it on instinct. Yohji tasted of cigarettes and a slight hint of liquor, but other than that, it was incredible. He moaned when he felt the hardness against his hip and wanted so badly to reach out and ease it. But then his hands were caught by his team mate's and he lost the opportunity. 

He found himself held against Yohji, the other man's lips roaming around on his neck just below his ear. God, but it felt so *good*. He heard a voice speak out and it took a moment to realize it had been his own. 

"Yohji… do we have to stay here?" 

The blond stopped moving for a moment and turned Ran to face him. Yohji's verdant gaze was so earnest. "I knew it was you all along… I'm glad you finally decided to come out of hiding, Ran." 

Violet eyes widening, the redhead looked up at Yohji and swallowed. "You're not… angry?" For the second time in his life, he was vulnerable. He was completely at a loss as to how to continue. Truth be told, he hadn't thought this far ahead. 

There was no verbal answer forthcoming. The blond assassin simply moving out of the crowd and drawing his confused team mate behind him. Yohji was taking him out of the club and into the parking lot outside. Once they got to Seven, Aya found himself pressed against the side of the car. He heard Yohji's voice, as sensual as ever, in his ear. 

"Should I be… Ran?" 

Aya looked at him, the violet eyes holding nothing but naked emotion in them. They fluttered closed, but an upward lift of his chin by Yohji reopened them quickly. "Don't stop looking at me like that," the older man murmured. "How long have you wanted to do this, Ran?" 

The redhead averted his gaze a little. "I… I've felt something for you since shortly after the Liott mission." He swallowed. "Since the first time I saw you cry for someone else… I had always thought you were shallow and didn't care for others, Yohji. I saw a different side of you then." Aya looked back at his team mate. "I started realizing that you were using sex to try and cover up the pain." 

Yohji's fingers brushed his cheek with the gentlest caress he'd ever felt in his life. "Where do you want this to go, Ran?" He spoke the name with so much sensuality it nearly made the redhead moan. 

Casting aside his pride, Aya ran both of his hands through the golden hair. It was like so much silk between his fingers. He fully faced the expectant gaze. "I want to be with you completely… As a partner… in all things, Yohji." 

Two warm, extremely gentle hands moved to the sides of his face and Aya closed his eyes. He nearly whimpered when moist breath fanned against his cheek. Then, his ear was assaulted with the sweet whisper of Yohji's response. 

"I like that idea." Yohji let his hands move down to his team mate's shoulders and pulled back enough to look into the glittering violet gaze. "Shall we start with dinner tomorrow night… maybe a movie after that?" 

The look on the redhead's face was nothing short of shock and confusion. "Really?" He couldn't believe that the blond assassin was… was… asking him out… on a date. 

The smile on Yohji Kudou's face was nothing short of beautific. "Yeah, really." 

* * *

He loved this. The soft, almost vulnerable look on Aya's face was too irresistible. Yohji leaned down, letting his lips ghost over the redheaded swordsman's, feeling their velvety softness against his skin and loving it. 

Just the fact that this was the same pissy swordsman that had, only a couple of weeks ago, bitched at him about his decadent lifestyle made it all even more worthwhile. Yohji's hands reached down, clasping at each of Aya's wrists, pulling them up so that the long arms went around his neck. The scent of the younger man's body was clean and his lips were oh so delectable… 

It was only after he'd teased and kissed them to sweet, swollen succulence that the blond pulled back. "Let's blow this place and head back to the shop." 

The only response Yohji got was a nod and a sigh. Obviously his companion didn't mind the idea of 'alone' time. He didn't want to let the swordsman go, even for the short amount of time it took to go to their own cars and drive back to the flower shop, but he could endure… 

After parking in the garage, Yohji reached out to his team mate and pulled him into the loose circle of his embrace. Aya lay his head down on the blond assassin's shoulder and closed his eyes, simply enjoying the quiet presence. With a smile, the taller man put his hand to the back of Aya's head and lay his cheek against the crown of that scarlet hair. 

Some time later, they were going inside. Yohji left his arm draped over the redhead's shoulders while Aya had one wound possessively around his waist. The blond smirked at that. There was still a long road ahead at building something lasting and yet, Aya wasn't willing to let him go even for just a second. 

They stopped outside of Aya's door. Yohji looked down at his companion, taking note of how it seemed he was trying to build the courage to say something. The blond didn't interrupt, knowing that it was so hard for his team mate to actually admit anything that might resemble weakness. Finally, after what seemed like long minutes, the violet gaze turned upwards to his own. 

"Stay the night… Please." 

Yohji smiled. "Since you asked so nicely… Sure." 

The swordsman opened the door and let the blond into his immaculate room. Yohji took a good look around - he'd never actually been able to get in, not at least while the redhead had been home. The blond was surprised when, suddenly, he found his arms and mouth full of his team mate. He went on instinct, kissing back fiercely and letting his hands mold that lean, pliant body against his own. 

God, but that kiss alone could get him to the 'I-want-to-rip-your-clothes-off-right-now' level. 

Yohji broke it, albeit reluctantly, and looked down into the pools of color that entranced him every time they locked on him. "Aya… if you don't stop, we're going to be putting that bed to a use that could very well wake up the rest of the house." 

"Isn't that what you want?" Aya's question was breathless and soft. His fingers were wound up in the silken locks of Yohji's flaxen hair, twisting some of the waves between them. 

It was so hard to bite back the answer his body wanted him to give, but Yohji managed to whisper. "Not with you… I want to do right by you, Aya… Ran…" 

The meaning was not lost on the redhead. "Yohji… I…" The blond knew what was running through his team mate's brain. He would, of course, be surprised to hear those words out of Yohji Kudou's mouth. "Thank you, Yohji." 

A slight smile crossed the golden haired assassin's face, the same kind of smile that Aya had been given earlier this week. Yohji pulled his own shirt over his head and lay it over the back of the nearest chair. "I just want to hold you tonight, Aya." 

Of course, his body called him a liar, but he wouldn't tell Aya that… not on pain of death. 

* * *

Mishaela: More shocks and surprises... I'm sorry that these short chapters leave you chomping at the bit. I'm trying to put more 'meat' into later parts. 

Thanks for the great reviews so far! 


	7. I Like This...

Look at Me - Part 7.

* * *

Disclaimer: Same as in previous parts... 

Pairing: Yohji x Aya/Ran  
Warnings: Yaoi, Shounen-ai, Language, Poetry 

* * *

Aya rolled over in his bed, his arm reaching out for someone who wasn't there. He opened one eye and looked at the pillow, his pale face twisting into a scowl at its emptiness. The look changed when he sat up and found two flowers, a cattleya and a rose, tied together with a piece of ribbon. He took them up, between his fingers, and brushed them against his cheek. 

The night before, he and Yohji had returned to the shop and headed for Aya's room. Instead of being mauled, as the redhead was expecting, the blond simply wrapped him up in his long arms and held him the entire night. Aya had loved how it felt. Being able to be close to that strong heartbeat… inhale the masculine scent that was so uniquely 'Yohji'… 

It had been his fantasy come true. 

He rose from the bed and went to shower. Aya was due in the shop for lunchtime and didn't want to be late. He was sharing a shift with Yohji again and he couldn't deny the fact that he really wanted to see the blond. He wanted to make sure that last night hadn't been a sweet dream. 

The swordsman stopped when he got to his closet. How should he dress? He didn't want to wear his usual sweater and jeans combination. He wanted to wear something that Yohji would like… just this once. Aya reached in, his hand brushing against a black silk shirt that he'd bought, on impulse, for his own last birthday. It came out of the closet with a pair of black denim jeans. 

He tried them on, thinking that the shirt helped to make his eyes stand out. But… would the blond like it? 'Only one way to find out…' 

Aya went into the shop through the back, eyes primed and looking for his blond team mate. Yohji was there, cornered by several chittering girls, unable to get to the man who stood with his purchases at the register. The redhead cut through the group, ignoring several persistent teenagers, and managed to cash him out in just a few minutes. 

Then, and only then, did the swordsman turn his attention to the school aged fangirls. "If you're NOT buying anything - GET OUT! We've got a shop to run and there's only two of us!" 

The sheer force behind his voice caused several girls to turn towards him, looks of shock on their faces. Aya glanced back at his beleaguered team mate and winced at the intensity behind their flirting. The wash of jealousy and anger that suddenly shot through him when one of the girls lay her hand on the blond's arm was overwhelming. His facial expression went from irritated to furious. 

"If you don't clear out NOW, we're closing the shop for the rest of the day!" 

Yohji was able to come away from the corner just a few minutes later, when the last of the young girls disappeared through the front door. He ran a long fingered hand through his hair and turned to the other assassin, stopping when his emerald eyes caught sight of the younger man's choice of dress. "Damn, Aya… That looks really good on you." 

The compliment was enough to make him color a bit and the redhead averted his gaze, the anger fading. "They didn't molest you too badly, did they?" 

"Nah… they never do." Yohji smiled easily at him. "Just get in the way, mostly." His hand went to the side of Aya's face, turning it gently towards him. "What brought on the wardrobe change?" 

Aya looked at the older man, his cheeks coloring a bit at the question. Would Yohji ridicule him for trying to dress nice for him? "I… I just felt… like wearing something different…" 

Nodding, the blond looked at him and smiled. "I like it. I hope you've got something like that for tonight." He moved in a little closer, making Aya catch his breath at the nearness of the other man. "Which brings me to my next question… Where would you like to go for dinner?" 

"Someplace quiet?" Aya's voice was hopeful. He didn't really want to end up in the middle of a crowded restaurant. 

"I know just the place," Yohji said with a smile. His face inclined until his lips were practically hovering over Aya's. "There's a new Vin Deisel movie playing. I heard it's pretty good. Wanna see that later?" 

Aya nodded, willing to let the blond pick the movie since it was, pretty much, his choice about where dinner would be. Yohji kissed him then, taking away all thoughts of the teenaged girls that had been invading the flowershop in his absence. His own fingers wound up into the older man's hair, fisting in the golden waves, holding his team mate right there so that he could do nothing but ravage Aya's mouth. 

When it finally broke, the redhead sighed and went to the work table, eyeing the chart to see which arrangements were due for later that day and early the next. He could feel Yohji's eyes on him every so often and it made him smile secretly to himself. Aya was already looking forward to tonight. Spending time with the older man, getting to know him better, was high on his list of things that made the day better. 

* * *

Yohji looked across the table at his team mate. Aya… no, he kept reminding himself… Ran, was actually smiling. It completely changed the hardened lines to his face, made them softer, much more appealing. He liked that a lot. His hand reached across the table to lightly cover the redhead's. "You should smile more often." 

The comment made Ran pause in mid-drink. He set down his glass and looked at Yohji. "What?" 

"When you smile, it lights up your whole face. Doesn't make you look like such a hard ass." Yohji stroked the skin under his fingertips in an attempt to soften his words. The blond really wanted to lean across the table and kiss those inviting lips, but held himself in check. There'd be plenty of time for that after the restaurant. 

"Your birthday is coming up, isn't it?" Ran asked before returning his attention to his dinner. 

"Yeah," Yohji answered non-chalantly. He sat back in his seat and lit up a cigarette, his meal already finished and the plates set aside. "Why?" His emerald eyes studied the redhead - why was this subject even brought up? 

Ran was silent for a moment, obviously thinking. "What… what do you want for your birthday?" He looked up then, meeting the blond's gaze, and Yohji was suddenly struck with the realization that he was seeing the real youth. Last night and tonight, Ran was putting his quest for revenge aside and showing his older team mate the *real* Ran Fujimiya. 

"I don't really celebrate my birthday anymore, Ran," Yohji said softly, drawing a disappointed look from his tablemate. "Another year, another nail in the Kudou coffin." 

"That's a terrible way to look at it, Yohji." Ran was somewhat glaring at him, his eyes narrowed slightly. It wasn't the same as when Abyssinian glared at him though. Then, there was plenty of ice to go with that look. This glare was warmer - as if one was out in the sun too long. 

Yohji liked the difference, though he wouldn't say it out loud. "Hey, its appropriate, all things considered. I'm not going to make the mistake of thinking that I'm going to lead a long life. What we do… people die young." 

He watched the swordsman nod in understanding. "When my sister… when I came to and found us both in the hospital… I - I couldn't believe it. She was always full of smiles and laughter. I miss that, Yohji. I want to see her smile again… I want to hear her voice, chiding me for being too serious or too thoughtful." Ran looked up at the blond assassin. "The things I do… in her name… that's not me. At least, I hope it isn't." 

Taking both hands in his, Yohji lifted them and studied them carefully. "These hands… they're not the hands of a killer, Ran. They're an artist's hands. Long, fine boned fingers… capable of holding brush or blade. Your swordwork is an artform, Ran. Deadly, but it's still art." 

"I've been training since I was a kid." Ran lowered his eyes to where their hands were still joined over the table. "Your hands are the same, Yohji." He tilted the left hand over, near violet eyes studying the fingertips. "Calluses here… old ones… Did you play guitar?" 

The blond smiled. "Yeah. Back when I still lived with my mom in the States. Started taking lessons for my twelfth birthday. Guitar, bass, even sang a little - until the cigarette smoking killed my vocals." 

"I'd like to hear it sometime." Ran looked up, into Yohji's face, and gave another of those wonderfully genuine smiles. "Can you still play?" 

Yohji couldn't resist the hope in that voice. "Yeah… Like riding a bike. Never really forget it after so long of doing it. Just never got around to buying a guitar to keep up. Didn't really have the time." He let himself laugh a little. "My mom always said I should've been a rock star. This girl I knew back then… we had a band together. Her dad used to say that we could have gone onstage as a brother/sister act, we looked so much alike." Just the memories of his pleasant past alone could have kept Yohji high for the rest of the night. Instead, his good mood was fixed by the beautiful redhead across from him. 

"God, Yohji… the more I hear… the more I think I made the right decision." 

* * *

Mishaela: I really like how this is turning out. I've always been a hopeless romantic, I guess. I hope every one else likes it, too! 


	8. Until Tomorrow.

Look at Me - Part 8.

* * *

Disclaimer: Same as in previous parts... 

Pairing: Yohji x Aya/Ran  
Warnings: Yaoi, Shounen-ai, Language, Poetry 

* * *

Once dinner was over, Yohji drove them both to the theater. Ran was a was not completely comfortable with the choice of movies, but he figured that it had to be better than some of the standard teen flicks. He was surprised that they cut past the line and went directly inside. He looked up at the blond and saw him smirk. 

"Picked up the tickets in advance… That way we wouldn't have to wait." Yohji gently took his elbow and guided him to the concession stand. "Popcorn, soda, candy… gotta have all the amenities for this… never see a flick without 'em." 

The grin he favored the redhead with was infectious and Ran found himself grinning back. This wasn't at all like the Yohji he'd come to know during their time together as members of Weiss. He found that, the more and more he saw of this very different Yohji, he liked him even more. 

Ran picked the seats in the back, partially because of the fact that he didn't want to be disturbed and partially because he felt better with his back to the wall. Yohji didn't say anything about it, just settled down in the seat and kicked his long legs up so that his feet were resting on the seats in front of them. 

"What's this movie about, anyway," Ran asked as he sat down next to the blond, setting his drink in the holder between them. 

Yohji reached over and scooped a handful of buttery heaven out of the tub. "A friend of mine said that Deisel plays a character that's kind of like a James Bond for the newer generation." He munched the kernels thoughtfully. "If you don't want to see it…" 

"No, I'll give it a try." Ran said, his eyes drifting over to his date. He frowned for a moment. "Could you lose the sunglasses for a while?" He started when Yohji leaned over him, tucking the shades into the pocket of Ran's jacket as it rest on the seat next to the redhead. For those long, eternal seconds, the two of them were face to face. 

"I'm really enjoying tonight," Yohji whispered to him softly. The emerald gaze that ensnared his was open, only a few secrets hidden in their depths. His lips hovered near Ran's, heat radiating off them, inviting the younger man to take a taste of his companion's kiss. 

And he did, sealing his lips to Yohji's firmly. He surprised the older assassin, he could tell, by giving such a public display. But… that warm mouth was too good to resist. Ran wanted to drown in the kiss - let it consume him. 

Until some rude bastard coming down the aisle beside them interrupted by shouting, "Hey, yaoi freaks! Get a fucking room!" 

The sudden blaze of anger in the blond's eyes alarmed Ran and he hissed, trying to get Yohji's attention - but to no avail. Sitting up straight, the older man leveled a glare at the interloper. 

"Don't like what you see, then don't fucking look." Yohji rose to his feet, much to the crimson haired man's dismay, as the other man started for him. Ran noted that, while the blond was still wearing his long coat, it gave the appearance of more bulk than he really had. 

Couple that with Yohji's added height advantage and the older man was definitely intimidating. Especially with the touch of rage to his verdant gaze. Something in the look his team mate was giving the man was enough to make him back down. Yohji's voice lowered, lethally. "Thought so… find a seat and leave us the hell alone." 

The lights lowered and Yohji retook his seat next to Ran. "Gotta expect shit like that. Not everyone in Japan has an open-minded attitude." 

Ran noticed that the man's companions were staring at him and his date and smiled a little to himself. Just for a second, he let the icy demeanor of 'Aya' peek through, baring his teeth at the group. It wasn't a pleasant smile. It promised many thousands of different ways to die. 

That particular area of the theater left them alone for the duration of the movie. 

* * *

After the movie ended, Yohji drew Ran up from his seat. "Better than I expected, that's for sure." His fingers tilted the redhead's face up to his. "Wanna go back yet?" 

The beautiful younger man shook his head. "Not really." There was a little thrill of victory that swept through the blond but he squelched it ruthlessly. This wasn't a game. This was something else entirely. 

"There's a coffee shop across the street from our place… Sound okay to you?" 

Ran nodded and then they were off again. 

The place that Yohji spoke of had only just opened within the last couple of weeks. The older assassin had never actually been there - it had just come to mind while he was trying to think of alternatives to the date ending. He parked Seven in the flowershop's garage and they walked across the street. 

The first thing that caught the blond's eye was a small sign on the door that said 'Tipping only gently discouraged here.' The second thing was the fact that it was written in both kanji *and* English. Yohji held the door open, letting his redheaded companion inside first. Instantly, their senses were assaulted by the many different types of coffees, teas, and rock music. 

An older American woman was tending the bar, her somewhat tired smile greeting them as the pair came in. Yohji gave her one of his more flirtatious grins, which earned him a bony elbow in the gut. "Ow! Ran…" 

"Not the time or place, Yohji." Came the gruff response. To the blond's ears, it sounded a little possessive. *That* made him nearly as giddy as a teenager on his first date. 

The woman chuckled softly. "Coffee's always brewing, guys, and the grill's always open. What can I do for you?" 

At the promise of food, Yohji's eyes snapped wide. "Menu?" One was put in his hands instantly. It was a simple two sided affair, but down the back was a list of American dishes that made his mouth water. "I think I might have to stop in more often." 

Ran was a little less interested. "People don't actually eat this, do they?" 

Two heads turned to the younger man and simultaneous voices responded with "Hey!" Yohji watched the redhead's cheeks color very quickly. He let his gaze travel down the list of foods, nodding as one of his favorites came into view. Something else caught his eye. 

"'Breakfast Garbage'?" 

The woman grinned at him. "It's just a mix of scrambled eggs, grilled potatoes, sausage, and cheese… not quite an omelette. Served with choice of bread." 

Yohji smiled. "I'll try that. Hmmm… Wheat toast." He paid attention as her hands flew over the grill, folding the eggs around, chopping them, adding all the other ingredients… The woman really seemed to know her way around food. He filed that away for later. 

They took a seat near one window, the view going out to the street. There were some bright flashes as the storm that hadn't yet left the city behind started to reassert itself. He looked at Ran and lit up a cigarette. "I'm dreading tomorrow." 

"Yeah," came the soft response. The woman took a moment to come over to the table and set down a couple of glasses of ice water in front of them. Before the redhead could say a word, a mug of steaming coffee went down in front of him. 

"Black coffee with a spoonful of vanilla extract. There you go, Aya." 

One blond eyebrow quirked. "You've been here before?" Yohji watched the younger man nod. 

"Everyday since we opened," the woman said, smiling softly at him. Her eyes went to the older assassin. "Black coffee?" 

"Good guess," Yohji drawled, his gaze on the young man next to him. He watched the long fingers curl around the mug as it was lifted to the soft lips he liked kissing. Just then the crack of thunder resounded through the shop and the heavy rain started again in earnest. 

His coffee and food came at the same time, prompting Yohji to take his last drag from the smoke before digging in. He chewed slowly, tasting the mixture of flavors, and then set about to devouring the dish with gusto. Carefully, he ignored the look he was getting from his tablemate. "Not a word, Ran." 

"Yohji, I wasn't going to say anything." 

It wasn't long before Yohji was shoving the empty plate away and reaching for his pack of smokes. When the woman came to collect the dish, he gave her a warm smile. "That was great… I'm definitely coming here more often." 

She nodded, refilled their coffees, and then went back to her perch at the bar - taking up a book. 

The blond folded his hand over the one that Ran wasn't using to hold his coffee mug. "I know, tomorrow, you're going to be Aya again… Just… when we're alone… could you be… you?" 

Ran looked at him, his violet eyes blinking. Slowly, a smile spread over his face. "When we're alone… sounds good." 

Leaning over, Yohji captured the redhead's lips again, tasting the vanilla/coffee mix. Tonight had been almost perfect. In the kiss he gave, the older assassin tried to convey his desires for a repeat of the night. 

* * *

Mishaela: The finish of the first date... *sigh* Now, it's time to move on with the plot. Oh, come on... you knew there would be a plot, right? 

Give treats? They might make me write faster, you know! 


	9. Mother Knows Best...

Look at Me - Part 9. 

* * *

Disclaimer: Same as in previous parts... 

Pairing: Yohji x Aya/Ran  
Warnings: Yaoi, Shounen-ai, Language, Poetry, Angst, Cool Moms 

* * *

A month of weekend dates passed. Yohji took that time to prove he did know what he was doing when it came to taking things slow. His birthday loomed closer and closer. Ran was going to make him celebrate it for the first time in years… promised him that it would be a special day.   
  
Yohji was going to hold him to that.   
  
Then, the day was upon them both. The redhead took his shift during the morning, telling him that it was the first part of his present. Then, that afternoon, Yohji found his dating partner at his door with a long box. "This is just another part of your present," Ran said softly, a smile lifting the corners of his mouth.   
  
It opened easily and then the blond was holding onto a beautiful green and black Kramer six-string. Yohji flipped it over in his hands and found that the back had been adorned lovingly with a cattleya orchid. The depiction was perfectly rendered and his eyes flew to the face of his fellow assassin in shock.   
  
Ran blushed a little under the scrutiny. "I still want to hear you play." His hand covered Yohji's. "Now, there's no excuse not to get back into practice."   
  
The blond kissed him, deep and slowly, showing his appreciation of the gift. When it broke, he found his team mate panting. "Thank you, Ran… it's beautiful." He felt bereft when the redhead pulled away.   
  
"I'm going to get ready. You should do the same, Yohji."   
  
It was an hour later when Ran called to check on the reservations at one of the older man's favorite restaurants. Then, they were on their way in Yohji's car. The silence that hung between the two men was comfortable. They parked and started into the restaurant, Yohji's arm comfortable over his companion's shoulders.   
  
His blood ran cold when they were brusquely pushed out of the way by Reiji Takatori and a handful of his bodyguards. Yohji could feel the tension under his hand, causing him to give a hard tug. "Ran, don't," he breathed out lowly. "Of all nights… don't do this tonight."   
  
"I… I…" The redhead shook himself. When their gazes finally met, all Yohji could see were violet glaciers. "I have to go."   
  
Yohji backed up and looked away. "Are you sure? I… I… Fine," he said, defeated, "do what you want." The older man turned away, hiding the flash of pain in his eyes. "You've got one hour, Aya… I won't wait any longer."   
  
His boot heels were sharp as they rang out on the front steps. Yohji couldn't look back. Ran, Aya, whoever, would never see the tears that had begun to glimmer in those eyes. Yohji would never let him see the hurt that shot through the blond. It stabbed through him with all the certain precision of one of Aya's katana strikes.   
  
'Nothing we've built so far can stop the thirst for revenge, neh, Aya?' Yohji asked himself bitterly as he sat down in a shadowed booth. He lit a cigarette, the smoke curling over his golden hair, catching in the confines of the over-hanging light fixture above.   
  
The hour passed by so slowly for Yohji. His right hand fisted around the cloth napkin and the drink nearby had long since turned to water. Still, he waited. 'Five more minutes… Come on, Ran… Come through that door. Show me that what we've got so far means something…'   
  
Yohji's head lay back against the booth and his eyes closed as he lost himself in sweet fantasies of rapidly fading hopes for a happy future. 'You promised to make this a special day… Don't break that… Don't fuck this up…'   
  
His latest cigarette gave up its last breath of addicting life, announcing it with a burning pain to his index and middle fingers. Yohji's eyes snapped open and he flicked the butt into the ashtray. Then, he checked his watch.   
  
Okay, so he'd inadvertently given the redhead an extra nine minutes total.   
  
"Fuck this," the man growled out angrily before tossing back the last of his bland drink and signaling for the check. "I've been more than patient…"   
  
Yohji paid the tab and left, his angry pained aura clearing the path before him. No one got in his way as he stepped out into the dark of night. He wished he could see the stars above as he turned his head to the sky, twin trails streaming from his emerald orbs.   
  
"Happy fucking birthday, Yohji… Happy fucking birthday."   
  
When he got home, he could hear Ken and Omi in the living room, watching some cheesy movie they'd rented. Yohji moved silently, not wanting to have to explain where Aya was or why his eyes were red when he *hadn't* been drinking like a fish. He got to his room and quietly closed the door, locking it, leaning against it, wishing to God or someone that he could stop crying.   
  
It hurt… by everything he held dear, it hurt. He wanted, no needed, to talk to someone. Yohji had to get his feelings aired out so that he could function in the morning. His eyes flicked to the phone and found a post-it note stuck to the receiver.   
  
"_Yohji - Your mother called. Said 'Happy Birthday' and to call her when you've got time to talk.   
  
-- Omi.   
  
PS - Look in the fridge._"   
  
His shaking hand lifted the note and the receiver, the former being dropped on the bed. He dialed the number easily enough. Yohji even schooled his voice so as not to give himself away. He endured the rings until the other end picked up.   
  
"Hello." His mother's perfect American voice. How he'd missed that.   
  
"Mom?" Yohji wasn't sure what to say. He opted to let her speak first.   
  
"Hey, hun… What's wrong? You don't sound well." Her concern, as always, touched him deeply even though they'd not seen each other in years. Yohji was also amazed that she'd pegged him from the first word. Mother's instinct, he guessed.   
  
The tears began to spill and so did the story of the night. By the time he finished explaining the events of the last month, Yohji was laying on his stomach on the bed, tears streaming again, chest tight from emotional pain, and his free hand clenched in his hair.   
  
His mother was a reasonable woman. "Okay, son… First, get your hand out of your hair. I'm sure that habit hasn't stopped since you were still my little boy."   
  
Yohji obediently did as told.   
  
"Second… Light up a cigarette. I know you're still smoking so go ahead. You sound like you need it."   
  
The snap of the lighter as he did what she commanded resounded in the still silence of his room.   
  
"Third. I think it's high time that you came out for a visit. I haven't seen you since you were eighteen and I can tell that there's more to this story than meets the eye."   
  
"But, mom… my job-"   
  
"I don't give a shit! My son's in pain, more than he's letting on, and I think he needs to get away from the source for a while. Besides… You need to come out anyway… Lacey's getting married and she wants you there."   
  
The blond was upon his knees at the news. "What?!? Why didn't anybody call or write or something? That's need to know information." Yohji looked around his room, wondering what he should pack. There was no way that he was going to miss out on this event. Lacey had been a great drummer back when his band was in full swing.   
  
She'd also been a good friend.   
  
Which brought him to his next question. Something that had been bothering him for a long time. "What about Jo? Is mean… is she going to be there?"   
  
"Yes, hun. She's the maid of honor." His mother paused. "She's forgiven you, Yohji. Maybe its time you talked to her. I think your heart might feel a little lighter if you do. You know how hard her forgiveness comes."   
  
"Yeah." Yohji came off the bed and grabbed his suitcase, hastily folding clothes and stuffing them inside. "I'll book a flight first thing."   
  
His mother was a step ahead of him. "No need, Yo-chan… I've already got your ticket waiting for you at the airport."   
  
The blond ground his teeth. "Mom… if you dare call me that while I'm home… I'll swim back to Tokyo. I'm not a boy anymore… I'm all grown up now."   
  
He heard his mother chuckle. "I know, sweetheart, but you're always going to be my son. Now, obey your mom, for once, and get your skinny ass out here. The wedding's in three days and I'd like to have a distraction from all this ceremony."   
  
Yohji found himself smiling for the first time since the debacle at the restaurant. "Yes, ma'am." 

* * *

Mishaela: *sigh* And the angst begins. I had to give Yohji a cool mom... Kinda like my own. Besides... moms know everything, and I do mean *everything*. 


	10. What Have I Done?

Look at Me - Part 10. 

* * *

Disclaimer: Same as in previous parts... 

Pairing: Yohji x Aya/Ran  
Warnings: Yaoi, Shounen-ai, Language, Poetry, Angst, Cool Moms  
Dedications: To Black Widow... for her Birthday. 

* * *

It was the wee hours of the morning before Aya managed to drag his exhausted and unsatisfied posterior in the door. His boots thudded heavy on the stair as he went up to the apartments above. Inwardly, he was railing at himself.   
  
'How could you *do* that to Yohji?!? Just leave him at the restaurant… like nothing was happening between you… You broke your promise… Jesus, Ran… What the fuck were you thinking?!?'   
  
His hand turned the knob and Aya went into the darkened room inside. Thinking it a good idea not to disturb anyone, he started for the stairs to the bedrooms. He was stilled by the light in the kitchen and the scent of tea.   
  
"No use trying to be stealthy, Aya… I know you're there. Come here for a second, okay?" Omi's voice. Grave. Unhappy.   
  
Not a good sign.   
  
Defeated by his failure to catch Takatori and by his broken promise to the blond, Aya went into the lighted room. Omi was sitting at the kitchen table, cup of tea in his hands and another waiting on the other side. "I'm really tired, Omi… Whatever it is can wait until morning."   
  
Omi held up one small hand, preventing the older youth from saying more. "You're going to have to cover Yohji's morning shift, Aya."   
  
The sentence brought the redhead to full wakefulness. His eyes narrowed. He didn't like this starting point in the conversation. "Why?"   
  
Taking a sip of his tea, Omi paused until he could be sure that his team mate wouldn't interrupt him. "Because Yohji's not here and won't be for a few weeks. He's gone to America to deal with some family related issues." The young blond gave him a sideways look. "At least, that's what the public excuse is…"   
  
'Shit… I didn't think… who knew he'd take it so hard?'   
  
"Privately, I know what happened, Aya." Omi gave him a dark look, which was impressive considering his baby-face. "I couldn't help but hear it earlier tonight while Yohji was on the phone with his mother. He's pretty hurt."   
  
Aya dropped into the chair before him and let his katana clatter to the floor. He found the urge to bury it inside his own gut unnerving. "Where did he go?"   
  
"To the States. His mother was very insistent that he get away from here for a while." Omi pushed the cup of tea towards Aya and gave him a stern look. "I knew that you two were dating. I hoped something good would come from it. I don't like what I'm seeing, Aya."   
  
The words struck a chord in the redhead, made him angry. "I don't think you have any right to say a fucking word about it, Omi." He almost regretted it when he saw the young face before him harden. Nobody in Weiss liked that look. Nobody wanted Omi - young, 'should-be-living-like-a-real-teenager' - Omi having to pretend that he was the most mature of the team.   
  
"Like hell I don't," the younger assassin said softly. He lifted his cobalt gaze to Aya's, bored it through him like a drill. "When what you do jeopardizes the harmony of Weiss, I've got every right to say what I damn well please."   
  
Aya didn't say a word. He wanted to run to his room, close the door against the world, against the disapproval in Omi's eyes, and just bury himself in his covers. He must have screwed Yohji up in a major way to have him running off to America.   
  
"It was his *birthday*, Aya. Couldn't you put your need for revenge aside for *one night*?" Omi's question lingered in the air. When no answer was forthcoming, he gave his team mate a sad look. "I see…"   
  
The youth rose from his seat, pouring the dregs of his cold tea into the sink. "In three weeks, Yohji's supposed to be back. If you can't salvage what's left of your heart, then just leave him be. I don't want this any worse than it already is." Omi turned around to stare hard at Aya. "I'd like to see Yohji back on the team… I'd like to see him at peak performance both in Weiss and in his normal life."   
  
Violet eyes watched Omi move to the doorway. "Ken is oblivious, as always, so don't discuss it with him." The blue gaze lingered on the redhead. "… Aya… If Yohji forgives you… don't break his trust again." Then, the blond was heading up the stairs, his final words echoing softly down.   
  
"Of course, that's all dependent on *if* he comes back..."   
  
Miserable at his own stupidity, Aya glared down at his teacup.   
  
_… if he comes back at all…_   
  
One gloved hand swept the delicate china away angrily, a satisfying shatter resounding through the kitchen. Aya had worked so hard… wanted it so badly… now, he'd done the unthinkable… He should have known better. Yohji was more emotional than he let on. His own actions, the broken promise, they could never be retracted.   
  
If he couldn't forgive himself, then how could he ever expect Yohji Kudou to do the same? 

* * *

Yohji stepped off the plane and walked down the ramp. His eyes scouted around for his mother first thing after he again saw the inside of KCI. A sight he hadn't seen in quite a number of years, when his bastard of a father had demanded he come to Japan for a 'proper' education.   
  
Ah, but it was nice to be back in Kansas City.   
  
A shrill whistle caught his attention and he turned to see Sharon Kudou standing across the way. There was a bit more gray hair than he remembered, but it was the same woman who'd raised him. He watched her wave and then come forward, cutting through the sea of bodies like they weren't even there.   
  
That was his mom. Still as graceful as she ever was since her days with the ballet troupe.   
  
Yohji dropped his backpack when she got close and caught her in his arms, holding her tight. Nothing could comfort someone as good as a hug from mom… nothing. At least this part of his life hadn't taken a turn for the worst. "Missed ya, mom."   
  
Her embrace around his waist was strong as ever. "I missed you too, dear. How was the flight?"   
  
"Nerve wracking," Yohji admitted. He buried his face in his mother's sweetly scented hair. "Right now, I need a smoke and something to eat… soon."   
  
Sharon pulled back and smiled up at her son's face. "Then we'd better get your luggage. I could do with a bite myself."   
  
Chuckling, Yohji pulled his mother's arm up and promptly bit into it. "There, you've had your bite… Let's go." His assassin's reflexes saved him from being lightly smacked on the arm.   
  
"Ungrateful brat… You should know better than to dodge your mother." Her laughter was music to his ears. She took his hand and led him to the baggage claim. "We'll get the hell out of here and feed you. Then, it's off to the old homestead. I've got your room ready and waiting."   
  
Yohji's eyes glimmered with tears. He'd missed this. His mother was a never ending source of happiness in his otherwise tragic life. The blond hadn't realized how much he needed the comfort she could give. Somehow, she always knew just how much mothering he could take and when to quit.   
  
They got to her truck without incident and she gave him the keys. Sharon answered his confused look with a chuckle. "You drive. I'd like to get back to the city fast and I don't trust my reflexes with all the assholes out today."   
  
"Mom, I thought you hated my driving." Yohji got in the drivers side and buckled up.   
  
"No, son, I hated your drag racing." She reached out and stroked a hand through his golden, shoulder-length locks. "Your driving was always fine to me." Sharon smiled tenderly at him. "I wish you hadn't cut your hair, Yohji."   
  
The blond grinned. "I had to. Wasn't fun to have it grabbed by irate targets when I was a PI." He glanced at her and then back to the road. "Mom… is it me?"   
  
The question caught Sharon off-guard and she looked at her son tenderly. "What do you mean, Yohji?" Her dark hair started to flutter around her face as he turned the truck onto the highway.   
  
"Am I that unlucky in relationships? Jo… Asuka… Ran… The list of failures just seems to get longer everytime I come home."   
  
"Oh, Yohji… You're a good person. You always were… even now." Something in her eyes shot warning bells through the blond - as if she knew something she wasn't letting on yet. "If Ran doesn't have the balls to love you like you deserve, then you don't need him."   
  
"That's the problem, ma… I do need him… like I need the air in my lungs." He started when Sharon held out a lit cigarette for him. "Thought you didn't like my nasty habit?" Yohji took it anyway.   
  
She smiled at him gently. "So long as it helps you keep your sanity, I'll deal with it." 

* * *

Mishaela: Stupid Aya... hurt Yohji... cool Yohji mom. I love that combination.   
  
Hey, Miko no Hoshi and Talyssa... Don't worry, I promise to make up for the angst. 


	11. Matronly Advice

Look at Me - Part 11. 

* * *

Disclaimer: Same as in previous parts... 

Pairing: Yohji x Aya/Ran  
Warnings: Yaoi, Shounen-ai, Language, Poetry, Angst, Cool Moms 

* * *

The woman with the coffee shop across the street came in for her weekly supply of table flowers. Normally, Omi would have handled the order, but Aya found himself stuck with it this morning since the younger teen was in the backroom taking inventory. He couldn't stop his foul mood from spilling over onto the woman.   
  
Finally, she put her hand on his and looked at him with warm, understanding eyes. "Got in a fight with him, didn't you?"   
  
Shocked, Aya pulled his hand back. "That's none of your business." He really needed to get a grip on his emotions where the blond was concerned.   
  
"Your personality won't be winning any awards…" She joked. Her voice turned gentle and softened it even more when Aya tried to look away. "Listen, sometimes talking does help. I'll be at the shop all day and evening if you change your mind."   
  
"I don't think so," Aya said firmly. He watched her leave with her purchases without another word. His thoughts kept going back to the blond and where he was now.   
  
'I didn't tell you anything, Yohji… That was my fault. All you ever knew was that I hated the man… You never knew why.' He looked at his own hands, eyes blurring, throat closing off to make breathing difficult. 'My hands… your hands… soaked in so much blood. I don't deserve you, but… at the same time… there is no one else for me. We both hate this life, yet we both go on.'   
  
Aya watched the woman go into her own shop, kept watching as she went about the tables and placed the flowers lovingly in their vases. 'Maybe… can she help me get what I want? Can she help me sort this out enough that I don't screw it up again? She comes in, brings Omi those cinnamon rolls he loves so much… always acting like a big sister or mother to him. She smiles and ruffles his hair… Would it really be such a bad idea to seek out her advice?'   
  
After enduring the infestation of fangirls a little while later, the redhead decided that maybe some peace and quiet would do him some good. That and, well, he'd changed his mind about the woman's offer. His eyes flicked to Omi. "I'm going for coffee… I'll be back in a while."   
  
The little bell as he opened the door of the nearly empty shop sounded loud in his ears. He really shouldn't be able to trust this woman… why was he here?   
  
'Because Yohji's got someone older to talk to and you don't?' His brain suddenly decided to get a bit of wisdom… 'Great.'   
  
The woman turned to look at him, from her place at the counter, her eyes widening just a little. "Changed your mind?"   
  
Aya sat down beside her. "Maybe." God, why was he being so difficult? This woman had done nothing but smile and be nice to him since he first started coming into her shop. "Why do you care?" He found himself asking the question softly. He had to know.   
  
"You seem very lonely… you look like you could use a friend." She went around the bar and prepared his coffee the way he usually took it, putting it in front of him before leaning on the bartop. "I've got two good ears and an empty shop… Plenty enough time for me to give you an outlet and see if I can help you straighten out whatever it is that's got you upset."   
  
"How… how did you know?"   
  
"I've gotten pretty good at reading people. I'm also a stickler for routine. The tall blond usually works the morning shift today and you don't. Not to mention that you've got these circles under your eyes that make the mother-hen in me uneasy." She gave him a gentle smile. "I care too much about people sometimes."   
  
The redhead nodded. "We had a date last night. It was his birthday and I promised to make it special." He took a deep breath. "As we were going into the restaurant, I saw the man who had hurt my family coming out. I wanted to… confront him. Yohji said he'd wait for me for an hour. I didn't get back in time."   
  
The shop keeper nodded her understanding. "He didn't understand what you were trying to do?"   
  
"He doesn't know." Aya said lowly before taking a sip of his coffee. "I haven't told any of them why I hate that man so much." He stared into the black liquid and closed his eyes. "I… I just wanted him to look at me. To give me a chance to put into actions everything I feel for him."   
  
Her hand lay on his gently. "You're allowed your secrets. You're also allowed to be happy." She took a sip of iced tea and then looked at him squarely. "I saw the look in his eyes that night. He feels the same for you, Aya. Talk to him… tell him what he needs to know and what you need to make him understand."   
  
"I… can't." Aya said softly, opening his violet orbs to stare into the motionless coffee. "He's in America right now. He left last night." His tone was defeated.   
  
The shopkeeper gently tilted his chin up and made him look her in the eyes. Her hazel eyes were soft and held a mother's kindness. "You can find out where… Take some time off from the flower shop. I've got a girl who can help out if they really need it. Go to where that beautiful young man is and make him yours."   
  
"But…"   
  
"No, no buts. If you start talking like that, you'll never get this taken care of." She poured more coffee in his cup to heat what was already there. "If you don't do this now… I'll buy the ticket and enlist Omi's help in getting you on that plane… got it?"   
  
Aya looked at her. His expression slowly changed as everything started to sink in. "A-All right. I'll go make the arrangements." He took a sip from the cup and smiled. "Happy now?"   
  
She grinned right back. "Ecstatic."   
  
He finally glanced over at her as she went about making more of that fattening American food. "I never thought to ask your name."   
  
"It's Maimee." She bent down and pulled the oven door, releasing the scent of freshly baked cinnamon rolls. The bemused expression in her eyes was uplifting. "Want one?" 

* * *

Lacey's wedding was in two days. Yohji was going to have to go get fitted for his tuxedo tomorrow. The young woman had practically demanded that the blond be the one to give her away during the ceremony. Their reunion last night had been a pleasant excursion into the past.   
  
His fingers still remembered how the strings of the guitar Ran had gotten him felt. His body remembered how it sang for him, despite all the years of not playing a single note. The music that had coursed through his blood felt so good… made him feel everything that had attracted him to the harmonies in the past.   
  
To Yohji, music felt like sex. Deep, personal, soul-shattering, entrancing, intoxicating…   
  
Maybe that was why he'd indulged in the physical… to make up for his loss of the melodies when he'd put his guitar down all those years ago. That decision had come only after hard thinking and trauma. One word could sum up the reason behind it… the person who had, inadvertently, forced his removal from one of the things he'd loved most.   
  
Jo.   
  
His little sister - if not in blood, then in spirit. Years past, on one storming night, Yohji had placed his love of music in front of her. The result led to events that had been horrific and traumatizing to the girl. The band they'd been in, started together, had shattered soon after.   
  
Josephine Murray had never forgiven him… until now, he was being led to believe.   
  
After that night, Yohji had sworn to never let another girl be hurt… through his own stupidity or the cruelty of others. His eyes flicked to the picture over the fireplace. Jo, himself, Lacey, Mark, Ryan… all so young, so innocent, so sure of themselves. The band had never had a name back then. No one could make a final decision.   
  
'Jo… I wish I hadn't left you there that night.' He couldn't tear his eyes from the picture. His mother had taken it for them while the five of them had been screwing around. She looked so at peace.   
  
Sharon's hand slid over his arm and she pulled him to her. "Yohji… stop thinking about the past. You can't change it. Think about the future… While it is uncertain, it is also full of hope."   
  
"I wish I could, mom," the blond assassin said, engulfing her in a tight hug. "But everything I touch gets destroyed somehow."   
  
Her other hand cradled the back of his head, pushing it against her shoulder. "Shhh… There's enough hope for everyone - if they've got the courage to reach for it." Sharon pulled him to the couch and sat down, making Yohji lay so that his head was in her lap. Her gentle mother's fingers sifted through his flaxen hair, soothing him slowly.   
  
"Everything's going to be all right in the end."   
  
"Not for me, mom… Never for me." Yohji closed his eyes and sighed. If his mother knew what he did for a living now…   
  
Her next words came out, as if she could read his mind. "There's something you're not telling me, Yo-chan."   
  
Ignoring the use of the childish nickname, he shook his head. "No. There isn't."   
  
"You should know better than to lie to me," Sharon said sternly. "I may be blond, but I'm not stupid… same as you." Her dark green eyes rest on his face, waiting. When he said nothing more, she decided to be direct.   
  
"I won't press, Yo-chan, but I do know when something is eating my son up from the inside." Her fingers feathered over his forehead, tracing the lines that had developed over the few years since she'd last seen him. "I love you no matter what, Yohji. Always remember that. You're my only son and, despite what you might think, you've never been a disappointment to me."   
  
Yohji's hand rose to the side of Sharon's face. "Mom… what did I do to deserve you? No matter how bad I screwed up, you're always there, helping me get back on my feet…"   
  
Her smile lifted his heart a bit. "You didn't have to do anything. I'm just here, same as you." She brought his hand up to her lips and kissed the back of it. "Now, tell me about this 'Ran' boy that has you so out of sorts."   
  
Lighting up a cigarette, Yohji closed his eyes as he inhaled that first drag. "He's beautiful. Pale, almost like a ghost… Torn up inside, like me… Red hair. Not that Irish orange-red… Crimson. His eyes… they're blue, but… the color of his hair makes them purple." Tears started seeping from under his lashes as he continued on. "Most of the time, he's cold… glacier cold… but when he gets mad… He's like fire… flashing and breathtaking. I could sit and just watch him for hours…"   
  
Sharon chuckled softly. "And I'm sure you have, Yohji. You always had greedy vision for eye-candy." Her fingers threaded through his hair again. "What's he like when you're together?"   
  
A smile turned up the corners of the blond assassin's lips. "He's… almost shy. Like he's unsure of himself. Considerate. When he gets like that, I want to protect him and never let him be hurt again. I think I love him, mom… and that's what makes this worse. I know he's hurting inside and I wish I could take that pain away… but he won't even tell me what caused it."   
  
"It takes time and patience to heal, Yohji. You can't force it… no matter how badly you want to." Sharon made her son open his eyes. "If it's meant to be, he'll come to you again. The trick is to not rub his face in his mistakes. Never make him feel insecure about it. Everyone makes mistakes, even me… people are always tearing themselves up over them. We don't need someone else to point them out to us once we realize."   
  
Yohji sat up and gave his mother a kiss on the cheek. "I think you'd like him, ma."   
  
"I'm sure I will, son. I'm sure I will." 

* * *

Mishaela: Sorry about the time it took to update. I rewrote the entire chapter because I didn't like how the first draft turned out. Hope you guys like the rewrite! 


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